Musical Cues
by SonicTeamFreeWill
Summary: an eclectic collection of one-shots based on songs. mostly canon. various characters and moods. T for higher rating stories. chap 1 feat. Jake, 2 Esme, 3 Ed/B.
1. Almost Here

**AN ~ As this is a series of one-shots, I will give each a small ****individual summary. The overall one is this: on I participated in a competition, Musical Cues, where we had to write a 2500+ word one-shot inspired by a song. I entered 4 one-shots, which I will post here, and will hopefully write some more to add further 'chapters'**

**Disclaimer:**** The following contains segments of dialogue from ****Eclipse**__**and ****New Moon**__**by Stephenie Meyer and **_**The Twilight Saga: New Moon**_**. I take no credit for these.**

**Summary: Inspired by 'Almost Here' by Delta Goodrem and Brian McFadden. A look into Jacob's runaway days at the end of Eclipse/beginning of BD. **

Almost Here

_"__Don't make me choose. Because it'll be him."_

Bella's words echoed in my ears. They cut me deep.

The depth of her chocolate eyes drew me in, and I could see all the pain and fury that burned her inside.

Behind her, Edward's expression was torn between sympathy and victory. I couldn't blame him. I must have looked pretty pathetic.

I lifted my head off my paws and looked up at the sky, wondering what she was doing now. Probably planning a wedding. More pain shot through me at the thought of that leech waiting at the altar for her.

The silver moon that lit the sky reminded me of that night...the night Bella had picked Edward over me. I'd been confused, I'd overreacted...I'd been stupid. Who knows? Maybe if I'd been less of a moron, I'd be the one hiding Charlie's shotgun so he couldn't shoot me for marrying his daughter. Oh, wait - Charlie _liked _me because I hadn't _mortally wounded _his daughter or sent her _catatonic _! How strange!

Or maybe Bella would still have crushed my heart into the dust and run off with Captain Sparkly because - let's face it - she'd been all over him since the Italy fiasco, and I didn't matter any more. Not now that precious Edward was safe and the beloved Cullens were back in town.

With a sigh, I put my head back down and shut my eyes. My mind was flooded with memories of her. Laughing. Crying. Fighting me off so she could rescue Edward in Italy. I never should have let her go. No, I should've gone with her. Then I could have proved that I cared about her and Edward. "What a mature and self-sacrificing thing to do," she would say, getting ready to kiss me.

God, why do I do this to myself?

With a pang, I remembered when we kissed outside the tent that night. I'd felt invincible. Like a god. I'd finally won the battle for Bella's heart - yes, I'd believed, for a moment, that just maybe she'd pick me.

Lying on the cold, wet, forest floor, I longed to feel her touch again. Even though I knew it was wrong, I longed for that security. A strangled growl escaped my throat, my skin tingling as I imagined her fingers running along it. A moan of longing followed it. Who was I kidding? I'd be lucky if she ever set eyes on me again.

_"Jacob, it's Bella. I really need someone to talk to. Could you maybe come over tonight? We're having pizza. Thanks."_

No. I'm busy wrecking shoes and learning about my great-grandpa.

_"Jake, hey, it's Bella again...come over, please?"_

Sorry Bella. I took Embry's shift this afternoon.

_"Um...yeah it's me. Listen, if you could call me back that'd be great."_

Mono? Seriously dad?

_"Jake...call me?" _

What exactly do you want me to say? Sorry I broke your heart, Bella. Sorry I'm a miserable sod who can't stop whining. Sorry I love you so much it would kill me to let you go.

...

Ever since Edward stepped of Volterra, Bella's heart had been twisted and torn between us, and it was like I had made the final decision. _I _had single-handedly crushed her heart. I'd pushed her away. She couldn't trust me. She couldn't rely on me. Even though she knew the reason now, it didn't hurt any less.

I remembered all those messages on the phone...she'd sounded so lost. And I hadn't been able to say a word.

With a stab I recalled the plummeting feeling I'd had in the last instant: the confidence disappeared and I knew that I had lost. In fact, I'd lost a long time before the goodbye kiss - our first and last real one. As if I wasn't feeling bad enough, memories of the disastrous first kiss came crashing in like waves.

"_You can have me the way I am - bad behaviour included - or not at all."_

_"I love him, Jacob. He's my whole life."_

_"Not anymore. He left. And now he's just going to have to deal with the consequences. __Me. Until your heart stops beating, I'll be here - fighting." _

And then I kissed her. No 'I love you Bella'. No 'you're _my _whole life.' Not even a 'well, you owe me.' The first kiss was all about Edward. Oh, yeah, I'm so romantic. Great work, Jake. Uh huh. But still, wasn't a terrible boyfriend better than a terrible monster?

Edward and Bella? Their love was unpredictable. Dangerous. It was criminal for them to have come this far - hell, even Edward realised it! He'd nearly killed her, and then his entire family had come close. To protect her - that's why he _left. _But then he came back and suddenly believed they _had _to be together. And, worse, she _actually believed him! _

What Bella and I shared was warm and wholesome. She had been safe and happy with me. Why did Edward have to come back? I'd do anything for Bella; she knew that. I sure as hell wouldn't walk out on her like the leech did. She shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss what we had. It was special. It was like the sun, she had told me once. Did she really believe that? If so, it shouldn't be that easy to leave the sun behind. To cast me aside as if I'd never been there for her. How could she?

Maybe because I _had _neverbeen there for her. I'd held her at arms' length from the beginning, not wanting to hurt her and yet driving the wedge further between us. I'd totally treated her like...like...a dog! I'd hurt her and neglected her and still expected her to come running when I called. The kiss, the phone calls; they were all evidence. When her heart had been broken by that leech, sure I'd set her on the road to recovery. I'd made her laugh and smile, I'd gotten her out of heaps of trouble, I'd put back together all the pieces of her too easily trusting heart. But then I'd ditched her to go run around on four legs chasing vampires. She'd trusted me with her deepest secrets, and I hadn't even been able to explain my disappearances. I'd promised not to hurt her, and the next moment I'd tossed her into the gutter.

What a fool.

Oh, Bella, what have I done to you? To us? Even if we couldn't be lovers, even if we never got married, couldn't we just be friends?

A hot, salty tear the size of a baseball rolled down my cheek as I recalled the stoic expression Bella wore when she came to visit me after my 'motorbike accident.' More than anything, I wished I could have held her while she cried. But I didn't deserve it. I had never been there for her - worse, I hadn't realised how much she needed me. And in the tent, before the fight, when she had pressed her freezing body against mine, pressed her face into my chest, I'd been too busy gloating to Edward to take it in. She had been worried - about me and Edward, about the pack, about the Cullens. She had needed me, and I had all my attention totally narrowed onto hurting Edward. I'd totally abused the fact that my Bella needed me just as much as him, even if it was in a different way.

But I had destroyed our chances at that too; at mere friendship. Even then, paralysed and bedridden as Bella and I had decided to just be friends, I had known what I was going to do. I had known I wasn't strong enough to hover in the background all the time: eventually I'd do something to make her hate me. I didn't need Pixie Prophet to tell me that. And I didn't need Colonel Carrot-up-his-butt to tell me how much that would hurt all of us. Especially Bella. There was only one way to avoid this prediction, this disaster: I ran as far away as I had the heart to go. As it turns out, I think that was the worst decision I have ever made. I had hurt Bella, neglected her, hated on her boyfriend with every ounce of bitterness I possessed (which, believe me, is a lot) and after all that, she had asked me for one thing - friendship - and I had run away from it.

And the Number One Shonky Friend Award goes to...

...

_Jake? Hey, Jake, _Leah's voice interrupted my thoughts.

_What? _I grumbled. And to think I'd spent so long trying to run away. Why do I bother? _Drowning in self pity here, do you mind? _

_Woah, geez, sorry for crashing the pity party. _She sounded irritated and hurt. She was right. I was bummed out, but there was no need to take it out on my pack members.

_Sorry, _I apologised.

_It's cool, _she replied half-heartedly. _Actually I'm having a bit of a pity party myself. _

_Join the club, _I offered. _What's up? _

_Seth and Sue have gone to Bella's wedding._

_What? _

_Yeah, I know right? What a way to stick by your pack._I could picture her rolling her eyes. But - wait, did she say Bella's wedding?

_Yeah. What's up? _

_I've gotta go. _

I leapt to my feet and charged off into the bushes. I could hear some more pack minds joining Leah; a confused, excited jumble of thoughts. They'd been wondering when I was finally going to suck it up and come home. Turns out I had been drifting towards La Push for the last few days. Huh. So much for running away from my troubles.

I rushed home and threw on the most formal clothes I could find. I dug through the kitchen drawers until I found something sharp enough and hacked off my shaggy black locks. I glanced at the scraps of wrapping paper on the kitchen table from where Billy had wrapped his gift, and realised I hadn't brought one. I contemplated buying something on my way to the Cullens' - after all, what kind of a shmuck rocks up uninvited to a _wedding _without a present for the happy couple? - but quickly abandoned the idea: firstly, one glance at my dismally empty spare change jar told me I had no money and secondly; there just wasn't time. This could be my last chance to talk to Bella while she was still human. Apologise. Let her know I knew I was being a jerk. And maybe...just maybe...put in a last ditch effort to stop her forever joining _them. _

It wasn't hard to find the Cullen place. From a quarter mile away I could see lights through the trees. As I got closer, I could hear music and people's voices, blurred into each other. After all those joyful, fun-filled hours of morphine injections and bone realignment, I remembered Carlisle's well. Esme replied to it, and I found myself perking up a little. At least one person in the place might not want to kill me if I went bezerk. _Might. _And that's if Rose doesn't get to me first.

Aw, man, I'm screwed.

_We're watching, buddy,_I imagine Quil offering enthusiastically. I pictured the pack scattered through the forest, sitting on their haunches, tuned into the pack mind, just waiting for me to make a total idiot of myself. Looking at my chances, I don't think they'll be disappointed. I took a deep breath.

Here goes nothing.

...

Seeing Bella again - with human eyes, no less - was weird, but I could handle it. Even knowing she'd already made her choice, she'd already committed to eventually becoming a vampire. What threatened to release the anger and frustration eating me up inside was when Bella smiled awkwardly, tears leaving glistening paths down her cheeks, and I laughed and started; "I'm going to try and remember you like this. Pretend that-"

"That what?" she snapped, before I realised what I'd said wrong. "That I died?"

_Jake! You fool! You moron! You imbecile! _It took me a while to get control of my tongue, but Bella hadn't called the army in just yet, so I hadn't offended her too badly. Now I just had to very carefully get myself out of this conversation without getting in deeper trouble. And I managed it. For a while, I kept my head above water. Just.

But then the honeymoon came onto the cards.

"Yes I can have a real honeymoon!" Bella shouted. "I can do whatever I want! Butt out!"

I stopped dancing, the peace of the moment disintegrating immediately.

"What do you mean?" I demanded. "Have a _real_ honeymoon? While you're still human? That's a sick joke Bella!"

"I said butt out, Jake," she hissed, glaring at me. "It's private."

I grabbed her shoulders and started shaking, hoping to knock some sense into her.

"Bella! Have you lost your mind? You can't be that stupid! Tell me you're joking!"

"Ow, Jake - stop!" she shrieked.

"Take your hands off her!" Edward snapped.

In the forest, the pack was approaching. Seth looked around himself and warily approached me.

"Jake, bro, back away. You'll hurt her. Let her go."

Seth took my arm and began dragging me away. I shuddered, fighting the urge to phase. If I did so close to him, I'd tear the kid to shreds. My blood was boiling with fury. I had to tear _something. _And with each passing second I cared less and less that it might be Seth Clearwater.

No. I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't sink that low. I had to find something else to destroy.

_Edward Cullen. _

"I'll kill you," I hissed at him, fighting Seth as he pulled me away. "I'll kill you myself! I'll do it now!"

"Don't do it, Jake, come on," Seth insisted, tugging me again. I stumbled after him. Quil and Sam were waiting by the fringe of the forest. Together, the three of them dragged me away.

"No, he's going to kill Bella! Worse!" I protest madly, dragging on my restraints. I had to do this for Bella. _I _knew what was best. Edward was going to destroy her, damn her...why couldn't these guys understand? Why were they trying to stop me?

"Jake, let it go man," Seth counselled. "It was her choice." I gritted my teeth and doubled over as the wolf threatened to burst free.

"Back off," I choked. Seth obediently stepped back, and I exploded into the huge, powerful wolf that lived beneath my skin.

_Jake, what's goin' on man? _Quil asked. _You were really out of character back there._

I snapped my teeth together and turned my back on him.

_Leave me alone, guys, _I muttered, stalking off into the undergrowth. Not even Seth dared follow me.

...

I am an idiot.

I am a fool.

There is something medically wrong with my head. There has to be, otherwise why would I have let myself do this, over and over again? After all the pain I'd caused Bella, all the rage I'd suffered, all the spite wasted on Edward, who brushed it off like water on a duck's back, I had still failed to accept that Bella's life was hers to run, her heart was hers to give away. And hers to let her oh-so-loving husband freeze forever.

_I'm sorry._ That was all I had wanted to say. I wanted just one time, one perfect moment, where something important was shared between us and I didn't screw it up. One time I was totally in the moment, totally focused on Bella, totally _there._

I set myself into a lope until I reached First Beach. I stared at the blue-gray water; the huge silver moon reflected on its surface, and was reminded of the tears that glistened in Bella's eyes. The sadness you feel when you have something you love but you know you're going to lose it. The emptiness that told me; _you're only almost here. _

Only almost here.


	2. Behind These Hazel Eyes

**Warning: This story includes references to ****(non-graphic) domestic abuse and suicide.**

**Disclaimer: ****The following contains dialogue from Shakespeare's **_**Hamlet. **_**I take no credit for this, or Twilight and its characters, or the song**

**Summary: Inspired by 'Behind These Hazel Eyes' by Kelly Clarkson - please **_**please **_**listen as you read. Esme's turbulent story of life, death, rebirth and broken hearts**

Behind These Hazel Eyes

_The water raged below me, dark and menacing. It called to me. Angry tears stung my eyes, and fear ran through me for an instant before I remembered why I was here. To sleep, perchance to dream..._

There was a time I loved Charles. I loved him with all my heart; the wedding was perfect and I felt so grown up, so beautiful. He was a wonderful husband; he'd kiss me when he left for work and again when he came home. He'd complement my dress and my figure and the food I made. I thought I had it all, that things could never get any better. But a year or so into our marriage, things started going terribly wrong. Charles would come home drunk. He was upset by the smallest things, and when he wouldn't tell me why, he became mad when I worried aloud.

Sure enough, his drinking got worse. He became violent, abusive: I became his victim. Just like that, my perfect world disappeared; I was living a nightmare. There was nothing I could do about it - I was a woman after all, and no man would listen to me. So I held my chin up, covered my bruises and kept on. Powder and corsets and dresses and smiles. Playing the good wife. It was my duty, Mama told me.

I had trusted the honest, hard-working Charles with my deepest secrets, my most private ambitions. He hadn't laughed at my bizarre dreams; he'd brought books home from the library for me, bought me art supplies and materials for dresses. When he changed, I became a hollow shell: no husband to escort me places, no hobbies to occupy my bedraggled soul. Not that I had time for hobbies; my days came to revolve around making everything perfect for when Charles came home. Not a hair out of place, or I would pay for it. But sometimes even perfection wasn't enough.

When Charles wanted me, my body, nothing would stop him. He threw me against walls, he bruised me with his vicious grasp, hit and kicked me, burnt me with pokers. In the beginning I would forgive him - he wasn't thinking straight - but as time wore on it became harder and harder to let go. Some days he completely ignored me once he'd finished with me; he left me on the floor, battered and crying, and continued about his regular business.

.o.o.o.

One fateful day, I took a trip to the doctor's while Charles was out of town. I had been feeling off for a few days and was beginning to worry. If only I'd known where it would lead.

"Congratulations, Mrs Evenson," he told me. "You're pregnant."

"I- I'm pregnant?" I stammered. Images of my child flashed before my eyes. My face was blank, but my mind was racing. I couldn't give my child the good life, I knew. It wounded my heart to think it, but I had to hope my loving him would somehow be enough for the both of us.

_Charles must not find out._ I would run away, find somewhere safe, and raise my baby alone. Rage flooded through me, making my blood boil, at the knowledge that it was Charles who forced me to run when he was once so kind, so loving.

The doctor went back to scribbling notes as I dabbed at my eyes with a handkerchief.

"Good day, Ma'am," he murmured as I got up to leave. I said nothing, burning with sadness and fury as I stormed past confused patrons.

.o.o.o.

I ran all the way home, taking side streets and back alleys so no one would ask me what I was up to. I stuffed money everywhere I could: my pockets, my skirt, my bra. Then I slipped out of the window - no easy task in my multiple layers. I ran deep into the forest, where nobody would find me, and then tried to figure out where I might go. Who would help me?

I had no friends - at least, no true ones; none that would keep a secret. My family would likely hand me back to Charles on the end of a dog leash. A church would throw me out, abhorred by the idea that I had come to hate my husband, whom God had paired me with, so much that I would keep his child from him. A hospital would, of course, be required to turn me over to my husband.

Unless I didn't _have _a husband.

As long as I got far enough away for no one to recognise me - which wouldn't be hard, as I had never left my home town - I could say he was killed in the war; everyone felt sorry for the widow with the unborn child. I frowned: I hated breaking rules, and I hated even more using people like this; abusing the hospitality and generosity of kind folk. Then I sighed. It was the only way my baby and I could live with any kind of safety or freedom.

I put a hand over my abdomen, where I imagined the little tyke was growing. I smiled down at him or her. I didn't know whether it was a boy or a girl, and I didn't particularly want to. Whichever, I was sure they'd be beautiful. Now all I had to do was keep them safe. With that thought in mind, I headed for the river: I could follow it to another town, a new life.

As I walked, I cried.

.o.o.o.

A week later, I'd found a kind, accepting family willing to take me in: the man of the house, John, had bad knees, so he had failed the medical test for military service. His son, James, had been called only two weeks before I arrived. James' mother Maria was worried, but proud to have her son serving the country. Maria and John were brilliant people; I sincerely hoped their son would return to them. They happily boarded and fed me for free, and would often drop me at the surgery when I needed check-ups or medical assistance - which seemed to be a lot. As I handed over what was nearly the last of my cash, at what was my tenth hospital visit in as many weeks, I wondered if other mothers had this many problems. I was nearing full term, though, so perhaps it was normal.

Scrounging some odd jobs around town - difficult, physical jobs that were left vacant as the men were off at war - I managed to scrape by without having to borrow money from my kind hosts. Unfortunately, I had so few clothes that I had to start borrowing Maria's: I'd ruined a beautiful dress of hers when the baby arrived.

I had screamed, an invisible knife slicing through my gut. I dropped the plate I had been drying in the kitchen and it shattered. Clasping the bench so hard that my knuckles were white, I tried to keep my breathing steady until Maria arrived, looking flustered.

"Come here, sweetheart," she beckoned in a soft voice. For most of my stay we had been equals, friends, but I was glad for the mothering attitude she took towards me now. I was not in my right, responsible mind.

"It _hurts!" _I screamed through clenched teeth as my body convulsed violently. When it passed, I staggered drowsily over to Maria.

"I called the doctor. He's nearby. I know it hurts now, honey, but it'll be worth it, I promise," she said with a warm smile, half carrying me through the house to a bed. I could barely feel the difference between being vertical and horizontal. All I knew was pain, ripping through me, seizing and releasing my muscles mercilessly. Distantly, I heard Maria answer the door. The doctor came in and, in a deep, calm voice, told me to take a deep breath. I obeyed.

Another contraction seized me and he ordered me to push. Again I obeyed, squeezing the life from poor Maria's hand as I did so.

.o.o.o.

When it was finally over, and the pain receded, I looked around the room for my child. The room was cleaner than I remembered, and I was alone now. The sheets I lay in were neat and clean - they must have been replaced. I was about to call Maria, to ask after my baby, when she solemnly entered. Her bleak expression and puffy red eyes screamed _bad news, bad news! _I leaned forward in bed, anxious to hear it.

"What? What's wrong?" I demanded. For a moment, she said nothing. Then, all at once, she collapsed into the chair at my bedside and wailed.

"Oh my dear, a tragedy! It's your son, sweetie. He's dead." She gripped my hands where they lay, limp and numb on my sheets. "He had a severe lung problem. He only lasted a few days. You were unconscious..." Her voice faded as my head was rushed with daydreams, imaginings of what might have been. Maria's first words echoed in my head. They were the only things I could hear now.

_It's your son, sweetie. He's dead...He's dead... _

_He's dead__... _

_He's__... _

"Dead." My voice was scarcely a breath. In fact, it was more of a sob. Maria slipped silently from the room as a second sob followed the first. Now that I was alone, my pain burst free. Sobs racked my sore body, and soon enough hot tears began to flood my cheeks.

.o.o.o.

Later, Maria brought me dinner. On the tray was a collection of Shakespeare's most famous works.

"You should try _A Midsummer Night's Dream, " _she suggested, trying to lift my spirits. I nodded and smiled at her and, though she didn't seem to totally believe me, she left. I browsed through the contents; I didn't feel like reading a comedy right now. One title stuck out. _Hamlet. _

I flicked through until I found the page.

_To be, or not to be: that is the question:_

_Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer_

_The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, _

_Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, _

_And by opposing end them?_

Suicide. I had never really considered it before, but now? Now it seemed like a wonderful idea.

_To die: to sleep;_

_No more; and by a sleep to say we end _

_The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks _

_That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation _

_Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; _

_To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; _

_For in that sleep of death what dreams may come _

_When we have shuffled off this mortal coil. _

Mmm what I would give to sleep forever. To dream myself into a perfect world. A gentle, loving husband and thriving, brilliant children! That's what I desired, what I _needed. _That's what this world would never give me.

_But that the dread of something after death,_

_The undiscover'd country from whose bourn _

_No traveller returns, puzzles the will _

_And makes us rather bear those ills we have _

_Than fly to others that we know not of? _

_Thus conscience does make cowards of us all _

I was homeless, husbandless, childless, moneyless, and worthless. Nothing after death could be worse than this. Maybe I was still a coward, but did it matter really?

I folded the book closed and returned it to the tray where I had found it. Maria didn't need the guilt on her conscience that I had gotten this idea from her. I ran through muddy streets and out into the trees. Branches scored my skin, and I fell more times than I bothered to count, but finally I broke onto a cliff top clearing. I looked down.

The water raged below me, dark and menacing. It called to me. Angry tears stung my eyes, and fear ran through me for an instant before I remembered why I was here. _To sleep, perchance to dream... _

I jumped.

.o.o.o.

The blackness subsided, and I groggily opened my eyes to a burst of brilliant white light. When it faded to a comfortable level, I observed my surroundings. Several books, a radio, a tie stand, a small shaving mirror. A neat room, but definitely belonging to a male.

Oh no.

No!

NO!

I jumped out of bed and sprinted for the window. It took less than a second, and I dragged all the sheets with me. And, where I had hit it in my haste, I had cracked the wall. I froze. I took a few deep breaths...and was bombarded by a wall of smells. I expected Charles to burst in any minute. God, he was going to kill me! Running away was a stupid idea...terror gripped me. My heart was thudding in my chest - wait...no it wasn't...

A knock at the door made me jump. I quite literally almost hit the roof. What is _happening _to me?

"Esme?" A voice called from outside. _No, no, no, no , _I backed up against the wall. There was nowhere else to go as the door creaked open. I held my breath. More light streamed in, then a tall, lean male figure stepped in the way. The scream was only trapped in my throat for an instant. When it came out, it was louder and more high pitched than I could have imagined.

"NO! LEAVE ME ALONE! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME! I WON'T DO IT AGAIN!"

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nothing to do but stand here and take whatever was coming. I threw myself at his feet, begging. He knelt down in front of me and sat quietly. I saw his face in the light and realised that it wasn't Charles. This man was younger, neater, easily a hundred times more handsome. It looked like he was a statue in a former life. Maybe I was imagining him; maybe he was a memory of one of the statues of the museum that I had fashioned into a living, breathing person for my afterlife. He didn't look angry or violent; in fact, he looked sad and a little guilty.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I croaked, hoping that my bet against his violent nature was correct.

"I wanted to express my sympathy for what you've been through, but it seems my voice only hurts you." The man seemed even sadder now. An honest emotion. My terror wavered. But he seemed to know a lot about me for someone I had only just met.

"Been through what?" I demanded. "How do you know who I am? Who are you? Why am I here?" I asked.

"My name is Carlisle Cullen," the stranger replied, slowly and gently. "You are Esme Anne Evenson. You had an abusive husband and ran away when you discovered you were pregnant. The baby was born but died before you saw him. You ran away from your carer's house and jumped off a cliff in an attempt to kill yourself. You did not die." From anyone else, his answers would have seemed abrupt and rude, but in his soothing voice, looking at his sad eyes, I somehow knew it was because he didn't want to remind me of all the pain I suffered.

It didn't work.

"I should be dead," I sniffed, rage building up inside me like steam in a kettle. Why wasn't I dead? Why wasn't I with my son? I remembered all the crazy things that had happened since I got out of bed; I was too fast, too strong. This man had something to do with it. "What did you do to me?"

He sighed, like he had been dreading this conversation.

"Your friend Maria called the hospital when she noticed you were missing. There was nothing to be done that would save you, but nobody claimed your body."

He paused at this point, expecting a response. There wasn't one. I had been expecting that.

"I could still hear your heartbeat. You were so beautiful, but so torn and broken. I couldn't bear to leave you like that...so I changed you, and brought you here."

Another pause. Another deep breath. _Changed me how? Spit it out! _I wanted to scream.

"Esme...you're a vampire."

.o.o.o.

I stood up and ran for my life. Out the door, down the stairs, into the forest. This was too much. I ran and ran until I reached that cliff top, where I glared down at the waters that had failed to kill me: they had trapped me forever in this world, never able to escape, never able to see my son.

I sighed and drew my knees up to my chest as Carlisle joined me at the top of the cliff. I wanted to trust him, wanted to let him help me like his eyes promised he would, but I just couldn't do it. Charles had destroyed my heart beyond all hope of that. I could never trust another man.

_Broken up__, deep inside _

_But you won't get to see the tears I cry_

_Behind these hazel eyes _


	3. You're Amazing, Just the Way You Are

**AN ~ here's an Edward/Bella oneshot...I don't usually write E/B but this was nagging at me...and nagging and nagging.**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own any publically recognised characters or places. I also use one very well-known quote which, like the characters and places, belong to Steph. Meyer**

**Summary: Inspired by 'Just the Way You Are' by Bruno Mars. I still can't listen to the song without thinking of them! This one-shot, Edward reflects on his relationship with Bella :)**

You're Amazing

In slow motion, an angel entered Biology. She turned towards me, chocolate eyes glistening, soft lips parted slightly. Her hair blew out around her and her scent washed through me. I shuddered with pleasure and agony at the same time. Not knowing what her presence did to me, the angel took the empty seat beside me.

_Bella__._

Those deep chocolate eyes, so observant and thoughtful for one her age, were entrancing. Her soft, dark brown locks framed her face beautifully even in sleep. She thought she was plain, but I had never seen a more beautiful creature in all my years. I've never yet failed to let her know.

Every time I complimented her, she looked away or blushed furiously. She didn't believe that I would want to spend so much time with her, that I could love her. Every morning, when the time came for me to leave her, I willed that she would one day see what I see. Until then, I would just have to keep telling her as much.

Whenever I saw her face, my world lit up to the brightest sun. How could she not see that she was the image of perfection? She wanted to be like me so she could be good enough, but she was amazing enough already. If my heart were still beating, she would stop it. When she smiled that coy, self-conscious smile, even Jessica paused to stare. The other girls were jealous of Bella because she had a charming beauty that none of them possessed. I couldn't help thinking she'd be a very dangerous vampire with that powerful charm...not that I'd ever be the one to change her.

.o.o.o.

"Come on, let's go to class." I hated those words for all the times they'd broken our lips apart. When I voiced my hatred, she'd laugh, and then groan, embarrassed. I loved her laugh; it was music to my ears. Just another thing to add to my list; _Things I Love About Bella. _I wanted so much to be with her forever, but I could never ask her to change. She had it all, her life was perfect, and to take that away would be criminal. I remembered setting eyes on a blushing Bella in her Prom dress; she hadn't even gotten the words out before I told her just what I thought.

She was beautiful, simply stunning. Alice often joked that I would think Bella looked great in a potato sack - which of course was entirely true. The objects of Alice's obsessions were entirely unnecessary for my Bella. A very proud Esme waltzed around the house singing about my newfound affection to the tune of the lullaby I was writing, inspired by Bella. I spent hours at my piano, trying to capture the way my world stopped the moment Bella stepped into it. My mother loved all my work, especially this one, but nothing short of perfection would be good enough to be called _Bella's Lullaby._

Her smile. Her kiss. Her laugh. Her clumsiness, her shyness, her politeness, her intelligence, her maturity, her passion, her big heart, her determination, her independence. There was no denying it; Bella was an amazing young woman. The promise in her eyes that she wasn't scared, that she'd see all these messes through, meant the world to me. She was so beautiful, even if she was fragile. I wouldn't change a thing. I would protect her, keep her safe, but never change her. I couldn't bring her into this life, wipe that breathtaking smile from her face when she realised what it really meant. No, Bella was amazing just the human girl she was. One of these days, I vowed, I would make her see it. Until then, she'd have to live with the promise of a long and happy life with me.

.o.o.o.

After Prom, Bella seemed less pushy about joining my family, but I could tell she hadn't forgotten her mission. I hadn't forgotten either: hadn't forgotten what had happened at the ballet studio, what had almost happened when James bit her. Perhaps it would have been easier that way, if I'd let the change happen. Or perhaps she would have become a ghostly creature of the night, haunted by the loss of her family and friends, the inability to get married, have children and grow old with the man she loved - the _human_ she loved. If that had happened, I never would have been able to forgive myself. As it was, I had a hard enough time reasoning with myself over letting her go, leaving her at the hands of that werewolf Jacob Black. And it was difficult to accept that I had failed to kill Victoria and because of my shortcoming, Bella had then been endangered a third time. Still, after all the trouble, all the life-threatening danger I put her through and the way I fought with Jacob for her as if she were a possession, my amazing angel Bella still loved me.

Which is why, when I asked her to marry me and she said yes, I was blown away. I remember every moment of it perfectly: she blushed and turned her face away and told me that she wanted to take me up on my offer. I brushed my fingers over her cheek and turned her face back towards me, and locked my eyes on hers. Her eyes were full of hope and joy, but there was a whisper of sorrow she was trying to hide.

My marriage proposal had taken some bargaining, and in the end I had been convinced that changing Bella may soon be necessary. It may even be the right thing. She had looked forward to it for so long, even though she understood the consequences. It was only now that she started to worry; one look at her eyes and I knew what that sorrow was about.

"Don't you worry about Charlie," I told her, trying to be as gentle as possible. "I know this is scary for you, but trust me - we'll sort everything out."

"I know. I believe you." She was a little choked up, but I could tell she meant every word. She leant against my chest and sighed. "Oh, Edward, I love you so much. I'm so happy to be with you, and I do understand what it means, I just...sometimes I worry. You know; about Charlie, about Renee. About Jake."

She sniffed and sat down on the bed, and I could smell her salty tears as they fell down her cheeks, onto her shirt, into her hair. I sat down beside her and brushed the hair out of her face.

"Sorry," she sniffed, wiping at her eyes. "I totally killed the moment, didn't I?"

"No, no, I understand," I assured her. "Bella, we're all with you on this one. Carlisle and I will sort something out. In fact, I'll go talk to him right now."

.o.o.o.

We didn't end up sorting out the Charlie predicament, but we did address Bella's other concern: her wish for a _real _honeymoon. I remembered being perched on the edge of the bed as the sun broke through the windows, watching Bella begin to stir in the midst of a sea of silky sheets. Her hair, twisted and wild, dragged itself between pillows, wrapped itself around her arms as she half-heartedly tried to block out the sun, and fell across her face as she sat up at last.

She saw me looking on at this point, and smiled ruefully as she watched the last tendrils slip across her face to hang down against her shoulder. Order had returned to the former mahogany chaos, without her even trying. I chuckled to myself at the ease with which Bella maintained her beauty. No hair product and lipstick for her, oh no, hers was a natural gift.

"What?" she demanded, threatening to throw a pillow at me. In answer, I reached for her hair. It slipped easily through my fingers, and Bella laughed. Her stomach rumbled and she reluctantly rolled away from my touch.

"Go downstairs and...I dunno, start making me a roast or something. Whatever you Cullens would eat for breakfast if you were human." She waved a hand in a dismissive gesture, already rummaging through Esme's wardrobe before she realised what she was doing. When she reached a short-skirted, spaghetti-strapped, fairly low-cut and particularly pricey floral number that she never would have worn (but of course would look stunning in), Bella paused, swallowed and backed away from the cupboard.

"That could have been embarrassing," she mumbled, reaching for her enormous suitcase. I grinned.

"You were almost up to the swimsuit section," I informed her. She blushed and pulled her chin to her chest as she dug through the suitcase, so that her rich brown curtain of hair covered her face. Her stomach rumbled again and I was off downstairs to see what I could create.

Bella came downstairs in Esme's floral dress; a light garment covered in blue flowers. Bella had always looked good in blue, and I know it might sound sexist of me but I often wished she would wear dresses more often. It was such a shame she felt the need to disguise her beautiful curves in her usual masculine clothes. Then again, I doubted I'd be able to keep myself under control if I got to see them every day - it was hard enough already.

Oh, I'm glad Emmett is not the mind-reader in this family. He'd have fun with all this material.

"Do I look okay?" Bella asked from the bottom of the stairs. I didn't need words to answer her - she wouldn't believe me anyway: I flitted across the kitchen, swung her around and dipped her over one arm before she could so much as shout in surprise.

"You are amazing, Bella. Beautiful, caring, delightful..." I separated each word with a kiss, trailing off when Bella shoved me away and, laughing, ran for the kitchen to save the scrambled eggs I had forgotten about.

.o.o.o.

A week or so earlier, when our wedding day had arrived after much anticipation, I had admitted to myself, though of course I wouldn't say so to anyone else, that a large part of me couldn't wait for Bella to join this world. Knowing that she wanted to be with me forever, and was not just concerned about her own inadequacy, made it a lot easier to let myself think like that. Maybe, just maybe, Bella would win this argument too. Of course, even the slightest thought about this sent Alice's spidey senses tingling; she grinned knowingly at me as she passed to begin preparing Bella for the wedding. One thing was certain: I hoped Bella was prepared for my gushing of praise when we finally got a word or two to ourselves after all this.

It was agony, waiting outside for my Bella to pass through the house and out into my field of vision. The stretch of red carpet between us seemed much longer than it really was, and it felt as though Rosalie had slowed Pachelbel's Canon to one tenth of the usual speed. Nevertheless, when that moment arrived, a gentle breeze blew Bella's hair around her, and I felt the breath stolen from my lungs. A shudder of pleasure and pain ran through me, and a little voice in my head whispered; _it won't be long now. _Not long until Bella and I were officially, legally bonded. Not long until she was one of us, and could hold true to her promise to be with me forever. _Only if it's necessary, _I reminded myself.

As it so happens, it was necessary. Bella, being Bella, had seduced me, and that night of passion caused a bigger problem than we ever could have imagined. Nevertheless, being Bella, she had refused to give it up. Despite her complete inability to see what the rest of us were seeing - a lifeless girl, barely alive because of the unknown entity she carried within her - we all admired her strength.

When the child came, it was a scary time for us all. Carlisle had been away at the time, and the second something had gone wrong, Rose and Jake were instantly at each others' throats over it. At least they stayed out of my way; it was hard enough to concentrate with all the blood - Bella's blood, no less - cascading around the place. I had managed to save the baby, just in time, and then had turned to Bella's broken, bleeding body. Flying on a wing and a prayer, I plunged the syringe into her heart and pushed the plunger. Carlisle flew up the stairs, five steps at a time, and rushed us all out of the room, promising to take care of everything. In parting, he grabbed my arm and looked deep into my eyes.

"Bella is amazing young woman, Edward," he said. "She will get through this, I promise you."

.o.o.o.

Now I sit in the living room of the cottage Esme and the others made for Bella and I - and, more recently, our beautiful daughter Renesmee. The fire under the mantle flickers warmly, and a hand-me-down record player in the corner exudes cheesy old love songs. It is Valentine's Day, and Bella is upstairs preparing for our outing; we were headed to a certain small Italian restaurant in Port Angeles, where it had all started for us. We couldn't eat, of course, but vampires are surprisingly sentimental.

Werewolf - sorry, shapeshifter - Jacob Black sits on the carpet with Renesmee - now almost a year old, going on seven - who insists she isn't tired and yet is practically asleep in her companion's lap. Jake and I get on better now. Bella has brought us closer. I'm glad for it; Jake is a great kid. Better than I give him credit for.

All thoughts of Jacob disappeared as I heard Bella make her way to the bottom of the stairs. Her beautiful mahogany hair was twisted up into a bun, and her golden eyes shone in her beautiful, immortal face.

"Do I look okay?" she asked, holding her arms out and looking down at her dress; lavender purple, light material that hugged her bust but hung around her knees. I smiled crookedly at her. She mirrored me, already knowing what I was about to say. I said it anyway.

"Bella, love, you look amazing."

She rolled her eyes and tugged me out to the car. She settled against my shoulder as we skimmed across the road and asked;

"Do you ever regret it? Being forced to change me?"

"How could I?" I responded. "I wouldn't trade Isle Esme and Nessie for the world. The only thing I'd give them up for is you, and I still have you, so that's not a problem. You're just...less breakable now, that's all." My smile widened as she ran her smooth granite fingers down my arm and laughed.

"I sure need it, don't I?" she replied. "That's why I was surprised about the whole shield thing. With my record, my special power should be Danger Magnet-ism."

"That's my Bella, full of surprises." I took her hand, kissed it and returned it to her as I pulled into a parking bay out the front of the restaurant. "Just remember; without your danger magnet, we wouldn't be here."

"And so the lion fell in love with the lamb..." she murmured, getting out of the car and staring up at the restaurant sign. Both of us sighed nostalgically. _Bella Italia. _"This place hasn't changed a bit."

"Don't you change either," I reminded her as we started forward to escape the rain. "You're amazing, just the way you are."


End file.
